


MIA

by ToxicBabes



Series: Tales of Apartment 8H [12]
Category: Tom Clancy's Rainbow Six (Video Games)
Genre: Cats, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Humor, M/M, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-21
Updated: 2021-01-21
Packaged: 2021-03-13 06:36:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28899024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ToxicBabes/pseuds/ToxicBabes
Summary: Just when Maxim thinks his day has been stressful enough, Koshka goes missing.
Relationships: Maxim "Kapkan" Basuda/Timur "Glaz" Glazkov
Series: Tales of Apartment 8H [12]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1705774
Comments: 5
Kudos: 24





	MIA

**Author's Note:**

> For anyone new, there is a slight prequel to this fic which is [Koshka](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25161499) and it basically follows how Timur found her in the first place. Though all you need to know is that Koshka is their cat 😊 Enjoy!

In Timur’s absence, Maxim had to settle for the rumbling purrs of Koshka to comfort him. They were warm where they were bundled on the sofa, but Maxim found himself bored of the show he was watching and his back ached from the softness of the sofa cushions beneath him. He had been laying there since the early afternoon, finding nothing much to do on his day off than to distract himself from the fact that Timur was away again for a couple weeks. 

As much as he didn’t want to disturb Koshka, he didn’t want a sore back tomorrow morning. He picked her up as if she were an infant, supporting the rump with one palm and the other along her back to keep her steady. She awoke from her slumber disgruntled and annoyed, but not enough to refuse being carried. 

They settled down in bed not long after with Koshka occupying the other half of the mattress. It was always a little colder without Timur around, but Maxim did not let himself dwell on it. The second he opened his mind to acknowledging his inner thoughts of yearning, he knew it would never stop. He fell asleep promptly in hopes to garner as many hours of sleep as possible before he would wake up to Koshka sticking her paws into his agape mouth or the general spells of wakefulness that would strike him in the early hours of the morning.

He stirred before his alarm went off and calculated he managed six hours, which was not unusual on days without Timur keeping him anchored in bed. The morning routine did not change much overall. He made breakfast for himself, for Koshka, brewed a cup of coffee and spent a moment contemplating if he could bring himself to make it like Timur would. Sugar and milk. No, he couldn’t bring himself to do it. Plus, it never tasted right. Perhaps Timur had some secret method, but Maxim could never replicate it. 

Lacking the appetite for breakfast, he settled on the balcony and lit his first cigarette of the day. He allowed Koshka to join him under the conditions that she would not try to climb the railings. They enjoyed the crisp air with the occasional passing breeze, only for the peace to be punctuated by the shrill scream of a baby crying somewhere in the apartment building. Maxim let her back inside before locking the balcony door and he readied his sanity for searching the tumble dryer for a pair of matching socks. 

On the drive to work, he made a mental note to get the laundry sorted and put away. It would be awkward if Timur were to come home to find the same load of laundry still sitting there, seeing as Maxim was always the one to be encouraging them to get the chores done like a drill instructor. _Do it now, not later otherwise you’ll never get around to it._ Now he understood the reluctance in a time when he simply couldn’t be bothered. 

Though the huge difference between Maxim and Timur was that the older man kept things clean to begin with. Large messes rarely accumulated because small clutter was easy and quick to sort out. Meanwhile, Timur could find himself letting everything build up and it did not seem to affect him too much. His office was the same story, cluttered in its own way and Maxim could not enter it without seeing a dozen things which could be tidied or organised more efficiently. 

Enough about Timur. Maxim refused to think about his habits any longer but had no second thoughts about checking his phone a dozen times during a meeting to make sure he didn’t receive any texts. Following the meeting, the rest of the day gave him little chance to take a break. 

With a new batch of recruits arriving, there were various assessments to do, many names whirling in his head and too much to keep track of. Luckily he wasn’t the only one responsible for all of this. His other colleagues had similar duties and there were several dozen administrative staff chasing up on any missing paperwork. Though that wasn’t what Maxim was concerned with. He cared much more about looking out for any exceptional soldiers amongst the group and who lacked in comparison to their peers. While he had authority over them, they were also the same people who would be covering his back in a mission. It was best to begin getting to know them sooner rather than later. 

By the time he was leaving base, an exhaustion settled deep within his limbs like hardened lead. He rested for a moment in the car, noting the slight dampness to his tracksuit bottoms from the rain in the late afternoon. Now to drive home and make dinner without the encouragement from Timur’s presence. On days like these that would leave them drained, having him by his side always gave Maxim a small push to get themselves sorted. After all, the motivation to do something for someone else rather than for oneself always came quicker.

For now, microwaved leftovers were enough to satisfy him. He did a rough calculation to note that it would be four o’clock in the afternoon for Timur. The weather in Canada was reminiscent of home during the colder months and he hoped Timur was having a good time, even if it was just a work assignment. 

It took a moment for the video call to go through. Though when he finally saw Timur’s smiling expression, Maxim did not focus too much on his own tiredness. He listened to how Timur had to sit between Harry and Taina for the plane journey, that he and Sébastien almost missed the connection in Amsterdam trying to find a bathroom that didn’t have a mile-long queue. Though now he was in Montreal, enjoying the bountiful snow that was much more pleasant than constant rain and wetness in England. 

In the rare cases there was snowfall here, they were often followed by rain that only made everything slippery and miserable. The traffic would become congested by cautious drivers, not fun for a typical workday. 

Spotting the empty Tupperware with tomato sauce stained on the sides and stray noodles resting at the bottom, Timur remembered something. “I’m surprised Koshka didn’t bother you while you were eating,” he pointed out. “Did you feed her or something?”

Maxim paused momentarily then glanced around. “I forgot,” he admitted and found it strange that he hadn’t been incessantly reminded to serve her dinner. Bringing the phone with him, he went to top up her bowl with some dry food. The kibble clinked into her bowl and the noise always made her sprint at full speed from wherever she was resting. Maxim strained to hear for the chime of the bell on her collar, then he shook the bowl a couple times and called for her. “She isn’t coming.”

“Maybe you locked her in the bedroom,” Timur suggested, his confusion growing greater by the minute. “Or she got into my office.”

It was unlikely, but Maxim went to check anyway. He scanned the bedroom and looked underneath the bed, looked in the bathroom then made sure the office was clear. They kept the door closed for the office at all times, seeing as Timur often left his paints and cups of murky water sitting out. The last thing neither of them wanted was an apartment covered in Prussian blue paw prints. 

Wherever Maxim looked and no matter how many times he called her name, there came no response. 

“She’s somewhere here, she’s just messing with me,” he murmured, giving a short chuckle as he paced to the sofa. Timur did not appreciate the humour though and continued to await any news with a stony expression. Not under the sofa this time. “Don’t freak out, alright?”

“What if you didn’t close the door properly when you took out the bin?” Timur questioned and there was an obvious tension in his words. He began to leave his dorm so as not to disturb Sébastien in the case that he would start giving off at Maxim for any foolishness. 

“No, the only time I opened the front door was to leave for work and when I came home,” came the quick assurance. “We woke up this morning, I had a smoke on the balcony, she was sitting right next to me. I took her back inside- I _carried_ her back inside-”

“You let her on the balcony?” 

There was a long, long silence that dragged out beneath them and Maxim had nowhere to hide. He had already said the words and the camera captured his blank expression, the way he tilted his phone away ever so slightly.

“Yeah, I let her sit with me sometimes,” Maxim confessed, though it felt more like an interrogation than an act of penance and with Timur as his judge, he wondered if he would be merciful. “But she never leaves my sight. I wouldn’t leave her on the balcony unattended.” 

And this still did not answer the question of where Koshka could be. Though what it did tell Timur was the reason why she was always pawing and meowing at the balcony door when she noticed Maxim having a smoke. It made a lot more sense now. He took in a deep breath, notably exasperated by this dilemma and everything he learnt thus far.

“And what if someone sees her?” Timur went on to ask, though perhaps proposing these questions to detract from the fact that he was beginning to get worked up over this. “If the landlord finds out, we’re gonna get evicted.”

“Well, you’re the one who kept her,” Maxim pointed out then held his tongue. Now was not the time to be casting stones of who was righteous in the situation. He had a cat to locate and time was ticking. “I just don’t understand how she could have gotten out. All the doors were locked, all the windows were shut.”

Someone was calling for Timur. He responded to them then returned his attention to Maxim, brows knitted with concern. “Listen, just look for her, okay? I have to go now, but text me if she shows up.” The tone of his voice was dejected. This was going to remain on his mind for however long it would take to find her. 

They said their goodbyes and once Maxim was left on his own, he had no clue what to do. He made himself look presentable before knocking on the neighbour’s door, the couple next to them who they trusted to feed Koshka when they were away. No luck, they hadn’t seen her either and promised to keep an eye out. 

No sign in the lobby. Maxim pretended to check for mail and scanned the area for any signs of her presence but felt that it was pointless to be looking here, or anywhere outside the apartment at all because there was no possibility that she could have escaped. He broke out of his thoughts when he spotted the familiar face of the old lady he helped a while back. 

It was the small favour of helping carry the shopping to her door, but something she didn’t forget. They exchanged small talk for a couple minutes before parting ways. The entire flat building wasn’t small by any means, nor was it too grand, yet he managed to run into the same people over and over again. Maxim and Timur weren’t the kind to be social neighbours, though they were distinct enough to spark conversations. 

It would be possible to ask if they had spotted a small calico cat running around, one with a little bell collar and a beauty mark like Marilyn Monroe, though Maxim didn’t think to ask and he certainly didn’t want word spreading that they had a cat in their apartment. He stepped outside into the crisp night air and drew a sharp breath, eyes straining in the darkness in hopes to make out the shape of Koshka lurking in the car park. 

Mist billowed with every breath and he lit a cigarette to curb the urge beginning to creep up on him. He watched people come in and out and gave a nod to whoever recognised him. As he smoked, he began to contemplate what would happen if he couldn’t find Koshka. 

It would devastate Timur. He’d never had a pet before until Koshka, not even a fish. Meanwhile, Maxim had his fair share of childhood pets, whether that be at home or of his extended family. He was familiar with being told the cat ran away, that his father found the fish dead this morning and flushed it down the toilet, Uncle’s dog had to be put down because it was too old. 

Loss was never pleasant and losing a loved pet was a different kind of grief, but one Maxim learned to cope with. It would destroy him if he was the one causing Timur’s glumness and by now, Maxim had taken on the blame even if he couldn’t fathom how Koshka went missing in the first place.

Koshka was irreplaceable, as for every pet, though different in that they could never find another cat like her. Unique markings, that tiny beauty mark, the affectionate attitude and blatant favoritism for Timur. 

The longer Maxim brooded in the cold, the worse his thoughts got. What if she got run over? What if he finds her corpse and then what? What if Timur breaks up with him over this? Surely it wouldn’t be the loss of Koshka, but a culmination of their response to it. And then following that, Timur would remember him as the ex-boyfriend who _killed_ his first cat, forever cast to the list of other terrible exes. 

The cigarette had burned down to the filter long ago and Maxim had been standing in the cold for way too long. He was going to find that cat. Even if it was some freak case where someone stole her, he was going to track her down and make sure she would be home by the time Timur returned from Canada. 

_Don’t be dramatic._

Maxim ignored the irrational part of his mind making up all these absurd situations and went back inside. This time he began to take the stairs up, just in case she somehow managed to make her way into the stairwell. It all boiled down to the fact that Maxim Basuda would do anything to make sure his boyfriend wouldn’t be upset and if it meant climbing the stairs to the fifteenth floor just to be absolutely sure, then he did it for good measure. Still, no Koshka. 

If she did manage to get out of the building, hopefully a kind soul would have her microchip scanned at the vets and she would be returned in due time. Though that was one possibility. The best outcome would be that she wasn’t far at all. Maxim would find her, chastise her for giving him a scare, the landlord wouldn’t find out about her and everything would be just fine.

Beyond the implications of facing Timur‘s disappointment, there was a slight ache in his chest at the thought of losing her. Of course she didn’t like him as much as she liked Timur, and that she often bit or scratched Maxim, shed all over his clothes, woke him up in the middle of the night and pestered him for food. Despite all that, it was the minor moments of affection and company she provided that made up for any of her quirks and damn, Maxim had not realised how much he loved her until now.

This was payback for all the times he joked about wanting a dog instead, for poking her until she hissed at him to stop, when he would set her aside so he could claim his rightful place in Timur’s arms. The distraught of a pet gone missing was beginning to truly settle in for Maxim and now he was understanding the whole upset around it. 

The apartment was silent when he closed the door behind him. He listened out for any sounds as he carefully set the keys down and slipped his shoes off. It was late enough for him to feel tired, though he knew he would be lying in bed thinking about this. About Koshka _and_ Timur. And the reminder that he was completely alone in the current moment was sinking its teeth into him. 

He got himself washed up for bed and entered the empty bedroom to find that he hadn’t quite finished folding all the laundry. There were still some socks to sort out which he paired off and a couple shirts to fold. As he put away the shirts, he noticed a quiet scratching noise, the chime of a bell. 

Brows furrowed in confusion, he opened the underwear drawer. And there she was. Koshka, slightly unkempt and having freshly woken from her slumber. She chirruped at him and crawled out of the nest of jockstraps, almost tangled in them. Maxim plucked her from the dresser and held her close despite her protests, taking in a deep inhale of all her fur and dander. She smelled of the clean laundry she napped in and at that moment he remembered her adamantly refusing to get out when he was folding the clothes.

Relieved laughter broke through him and he realised he was exhausted on the brink of delirium. He kissed her a dozen times before setting her down, hearing the bell jingle as she ran off to find her kibble. Sat on the edge of the bed, Maxim ran a hand through his hair and let out a sigh. 

Today had been long. A whirlwind of too many things happening at once, many of which put an uncomfortable amount of pressure on Maxim. Sleep quickly took hold of him when he slipped under his bed covers and just before he gave in, he remembered to tell Timur. He thumbed in a quick text and knew all he had to tell him was that Koshka was in their underwear drawer. All the other details could be given another time. For now, he needed to sleep before he burst a blood vessel out of stress. 

It was the precise torment of being so wound up that he couldn’t properly fall asleep. He lapsed in and out of wakefulness, unable to rest his mind which had been caught up in all the chaos. The quiet jingling of Koshka’s collar grew louder alongside the soft clicking of her claws against the floorboards. She entered the room and jumped onto the bed to accompany Maxim, sniffing and inspecting him first. 

Her face gave off the meaty odour of kibble. A cold paw pressed against his shoulder for a moment before cautiously retracting. Tonight Koshka decided against trampling all over his torso in search for somewhere comfortable to sleep. He couldn’t make out much in the dark but ran a hand down her back to encourage her to settle down, cradling an arm around her.

The tepid fur warmed against his skin, her slender body warping along his side where her whiskers tickled his collar bones. The intensity of the purring thrummed over the sound of his breaths and soon Maxim felt the tension in his muscles dispelling, soothed by the low rumbling. Though what comforted him the most was knowing a crisis had been averted. 

No missing Koshka, no upset Timur, just a mild headache that would be gone by tomorrow morning.

**Author's Note:**

> My Twitter is [@CompoundZ8](https://twitter.com/CompoundZ8)  
> My Tumblr is [erc-7](https://erc-7.tumblr.com)


End file.
